The Devil's hands are idle playthings
by Omake
Summary: Squall is bored by his repetitive life at the Garden, but after a challenge from Seifer, he realises his life is empty and hollow. Chapter 4 now added.
1. Never changing

The Devil's hands are idle playthings √ an FF8 fanfic by Omake 

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy belongs not to me, but to Squaresoft or Square enix, whatever they're called. Or Squeenix as some people like to say. If FF8 did, in fact, belong to me, it would be very different.

Squall gazed out over the balcony from his Garden quarters. The view was, as usual, breathtaking. The bleach white mountains in the distance, the fresh sea air tinted with salt that could cure any sickness. But not now. Five years ago, he was away, fighting alongside his friends against Ultemicia he could enjoy nature. Back then, he was free. A SeeD, true, but without his current daily burdens. Now, he was the esteemed leader of Balamb Garden's mercenary forces, and of course, what could go wrong? Nothing, as it seems. Apart from what mattered to him. Not only was there the lack of action inherent with authority, the paperwork, or the unending attention from the SeeDs new and young. Everything was the same as it had always been. His gunblade had been on the wall in his office as though a trophy for too long, and he hadn't been in any real danger since his promotion. He needed action, danger, a real threat to his life anything that would provide a dangerous challenge as was the life he had been living and yearned for. But he was Squall Leonheart. "More complex than you think" he had told Quistis. He was the person who kept his feeling dutifully locked inside, away from his life and work, not wanting to affect others with his mundane feelings, as though there were other, more important things in life.

He heard a soft clicking behind him as the door opened, but remained still. Who else would it be, but Rinoa?

"Squall honey, is everything alright?"

He turned around and embraced her, running his hands through her hair. She smelled of perfume. The same flowery smell of the past couple of years. She felt the same in his arms, and he knew that nothing would change. She was happy. That was all the mattered, not his aimless wanting. He didn't need everyone to change for him.

"Of course" he replied., and she believed him. "We haven't heard from Deling recently bu-"

"You look stressed, Squall, is something the matter?" She moved away to get a better view of his face. He smiled but unconvincingly, but she dismissed the idea as stress. He had a hard day was all. "Remember, me and Selphie are gong out tonight, so," she put on a mockingly serious face "don't stay up too late, or have any parties while I'm gone" All smiling again "I'll be careful, I promise."

He kissed her goodnight, and waited till she had closed the door. Squall looked over his balcony for a few minutes, and then went inside and turned on the T.V. The news reporter was talking about the weather, and there was nothing better on. He switched it off, and went over to his bed, where he lay down, thinking about his life. He could run away. It was perfectly within his ability to rent a car, and drive until the petrol ran out. It was deeply tempting, although quickly dismissed because "it wouldn't work" he told himself. He shouldn't just leave his friends either, and he couldn't forget his duty to them or the Garden. He lay down, hoping for relief. Fatigue gnawed at the edges of his vision, and sleep came easily.

He arose to see himself in a field. There was luscious untrained grass all around him, leading down to the moss covered rocks by the beach. The land was flat all around him, and he relished the freedom he felt on the plains. He had been here before, he knew it, but the whereabouts of "here" completely eluded him. Squall felt the ground shake, and whirled around to see a Malboro towering over him. Child's play. His gunblade was in his hand before he knew it, and he felt him self spinning and whirling into an elaborate attack. Fancy. Not his style. He pulled the trigger of his once abandoned weapon, and landed a powerful blow in the Creature's eye. It flew back, and Squall landed gracefully in the wake of the recoil as he saw it's corpse on the floor in front of him, the tentacles sprawling as it attempted to resist death.

As it came to rest, Squall wiped the blood off his gunblade, and let down his guard for a moment. He racked his brain for any memory of the island or how he got there, but none came to him. He gazed out over the rolling sea to the mainland, seeing giant cities, and the other way, into the clear blue of the horizon diving into the sea.

Squall saw a shadow fall in front of him, and turned just in time to see the great forearm of an Adamantoise smash into his back. He lay on the ground for a few seconds to realize what had happened, before seeking his vengeance. He launched himself at the mighty creature, putting all of his effort into his next strike, and heard a shallow "ding" as he was thrust sideways with the effort of his own strike. His attack was useless and hadn't even scratched it's shell. He rolled to the side to avoid further danger, but was too late, as the Adamantoise stamped down on him. Squall cried out in pain, but stood up again, readying himself, aiming the edge of his blade at the beast's face, and charged, pumping the trigger for all it was worth. Critical or nothing. There was no recoil as he was pushed aside midway through his jump. The gunblade had jammed. His gunblade had jammed. He fell to the floor without a chance of revival, and left himself to the mercy of nature. What little it seemed to have.

He sat up, breathing hard. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins, as he tried to regain some awareness of his surroundings. He was back in his bed, Rinoa was breathing softly at his right, oblivious to Squall's dream. "What the hell have I been drinking?" he asked the shadows.

"Evidently too much" they replied, as Squall saw Seifer materialise from the direction of his door.

Squall glared at him in pure shock and disgust."Out!"he commanded, feeling the rage beneath him once more, relishing it.

"Tomorrow night, Squall, we meet" he said, motiong to where Squall's scar would be on his face. Squall recoiled instinctively. "Ahh, so you do remember, even now. Same time and place as it always was". With that, he vanished again, leaving Squall angry at everything that had happened that night, and his lack of action against Seifer. He turned over, facing Rinoa, and sank into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Past echoes

The rest of the day crawled by for Squall. Through every second that dragged by, he almost caved in to the overwhelming temptation to personally call for Seifer, but decided to wait and see how the day would play out. He had told no-one of the previous night's events, or of his dream, because he knew that no matter who he told, it would spread. Rumours spread like wildfire in an organization as large as Balamb Garden, and Squall needed no questions of his mentality to be asked, even when _he_ would go as far as to question it's state. Nevertheless, he couldn't help feeling paranoid, as though this was some big joke everyone was playing some part of, except, of course, him, however, Seifer did not seem to be the type of person who would go to such lengths as quietly challenging Squall to a duel just for kicks.

As the rest of the day passed, Squall try to figure out what it would e that Seifer would most likely want from him, other than enticing him into a fight. His gunblade would aimlessly adorn his office wall no longer, and he vowed that he would make good use of it's strength. Squall took it lovingly out of it's case, and looked at his weapon, feeling a gleam of pride in his normally sullen heart. He carefully dismantled and polished the internal workings with devotion that would rarely be seen of him, as he checked that all parts would work perfectly. After he reassembled it, he quickly put it back where it had been, as he heard someone at the door. It was Zell

"Hey Squall! How've you been?" Zell had been away on a mission, had returned the previous day, but was as ever to report in to his captain.

"I've been fine, Zell, I see you still haven't handed your report in..." he left the sentence open, to make as large a hint as possible.

"Report? Well, it went fine, how's that? Listen, they've got hot dogs down in the canteen, and I was wondering if-"

"As much as I'd love to gorge myself on junk good with you Zell, some of us have _much_ more pressing _work_ to do." Squall's mood must have been obvious, as he was usually withdrawn, not aggressive. 'Stay calm, Squall, stay calm,' he told himself.

"Are you sure everything's okay?"A serious question from Zell? Perish the thought.

"Yes, sorry, I've... got a lot of work on my mind at the moment, so... maybe another time?"

"Don't worry about it, See ya!"

'You just have to love him' Squall told himself. With anyone else, his frustration would have been obvious, well anyone but Selphie, but Zell seemed to know when to leave him to his thoughts.

As soon as he had finished his work, Squall left the Garden, and walked to where he and Seifer had fought that time. He sat on a nearby rock, and remembered the night, so long ago. It was close on midnight, and Squall had foolishly challenged Seifer to a duel, and had to live with the results for the rest of his life, in the form of the disfiguring scar across his face. He remembered the cold steel of his enemy's blade across his face, and then the immense heat as his head felt like it was gushing out through his face. He tried to stop his train of thought, and put it all behind him, and returned home, his mind lingering on that battle, all so long ago.

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A/N: I know, I know, a month is far too long to wait for an update, and that this really is too short to add much to the story, so for that, I apologise. Over ½ term (valentines day week), I went on holiday to America, and managed to get this chapter done, and am currently partway through chapter 3. I've had tons of coursework and stuff in my life recently, so that's why I haven't done as much as I would have liked, but I'm sure that m next update will be in _less_ than a month and a bit. Btw, does anyone know if there's a specific name for the place where Squall and Seifer fought, or exactly how it happened? Because I have no idea.


	3. The force that drives us

Squall silently stepped out into the cold night. He took a long route to where he would fight with Seifer, and walked beside the winding river, which seemed to draw the heat from the air, and chill him to the core. As he walked, he started thinking about what Seifer would want of him. A fight, naturally, but to to what end would it be a means? He remembered the last, which added fuel to the fire of their rivalry, but this was surely not just for "old times sake".

He reached his destination, and searched for his gunblade handle purely for comfort, as no-one was yet there. It was again nearing midnight, and Squall shamefully felt his blood lust rising, as he remembered the previous night's dream when he died, and Seifer's intrusive arrival. How long had he been there, anyway, was he watching him? Something stirred in the darkness and broke Squall's train of thought.

A shape appeared out of the wispy mist, which seemed to part to allow the shape passage, which then took on the form of Seifer. "You came." He said, grinning like something out of a nightmare.

Squall's grip tightened on Griever. "What do you want Seifer, why drag me back here?"

"You came of your accord, did you not? It's been far too long since we've both fought as mortals, Squall. I now no longer have the power of the sorceress to rely on, and you don't have your friends to back you up."

"What do you want with me, Seifer?"

"No more fun? Fine then. Fight me!" at that, Seifer rushed at Squall, who only just managed to dodge his attack. "You're getting slow!" Seifer taunted, all smiles. Squall remained on the defensive, trying to gauge Seifer's strength, which was lessened, as he said, without Edea's help, but Squall's lack of recent experience had made him far weaker than he should be. It eventually dawned on him, after suffering the relentless blows of Seifer, cackling like a madman, that the openings he saw were purpose built, meant to taunt him into attacking. Squall took his chance and lunged towards him, only to see Seifer dance away past him, slicing along his leg, obviously having it all planned out beforehand. All his moves were being dictated by Seifer's actions, he was like a string puppet, and Seifer was controlling the strings, meaning he could dodge every blow.

"You're getting slow Squall, you're losing it."

Squall knew that he was. His skills were rusty, and it had been a long time since he'd experienced the exhilaration of a limit break. Seifer rushed forward again, and Squall raised his gunblade to meet it, the two weapons, extensions of the owners' bodies, clashed together and the sparks blinded him. He could feel the immense pressure of Seifer's strength – since when had he been this strong? - and so as to avoid crippling under his blade, as he was sure he soon would, the wound in his leg was aching, Squall twisted his body, and pushed Seifer away, and Seifer... Stumbled? He charged, beating away Seifer's flailing defence, and slashed his side, sending Seifer spiralling to the floor. He retreated a few steps, to allow Seifer time for recovery, a sign of honour that reflected Squall's unrequited respect for him.

Seifer pulled himself to his feet, seemingly unperturbed by the gaping wound in his side. "Not bad Squall, could've been deeper, but do you honestly think that you can beat me?" It was now obvious to Squall why Seifer had invited him here tonight. It was to prove that he was strong. Seifer had obviously been feeling otherwise since the defeat of the sorceress, and now wanted a chance to show Squall the he couldn't still push him around.

Seifer leapt at him once more, and Squall could now tell the seriousness of his expression, the murderous glint in Seifer's eyes meant that this was no longer a game. Squall's poor defence was blown away in one move by Seifer, and in one strike, he slashed across Squall's torso, sending him flying backwards across the ground, trailing blood, into the a pillar of rock behind him. Squall fell into a mindless daze, focusing on not just stopping the world spinning, but disappearing completely from his concious mind. He managed to stop his mind falling into unconsciousness, although he could feel darkness gnawing at the edges of his vision, and saw Seifer strutting over to him, holding both gunblades in his hands.

"Well then. It seems that someone's a little bit out of practice." He announced unnecessarily, every syllable escaping his mouth was like a slap in the face for Squall.

Twice now, Squall had lost his pride in this place to Seifer. He knew that this time, it would be difficult, if at all possible, to face his friends and promise to protect them again. He quickly changed his mind, when he saw the condition he was in. He expected Seifer to kill him. Quickly and painlessly, if the honour shown was a mutual occurrence, but he could no longer deny that it's embrace felt warm. Squall was amazed then, when Seifer placed the two weapons on the floor, and squatted down next to him. "You're weak". More of a statement then a taunt, the truthfulness of it still enraged Squall as he lay helpless in the dirt. "Come find me, Squall, when you've learnt to fight again." With that, Seifer disappeared back into the enveloping darkness from which he came.

It was all over ion a short time, but it took Squall over an hour of trying not to black out to become aware of his situation. The was a pool of blood around him on the floor, emanating from his leg and chest,. He felt the air sucking away the heat from the burning core of his heart through his wounds. Squall, hindered from fatigue and pain, slowly dragged himself to his feet. He almost collapsed to the floor once again, from a coughing fit that tasted strongly of his own blood. Squall leant against the pillar of rock he had been thrown into, and reached for his gunblade – God knows what might attack him in his state. It was an effort to even pick up something like that, but he eventually managed it. He looked around desperately, thinking someone was behind him, paranoid already from his easy defeat. Squall glanced back to where the Garden should be, and limped towards it, every step dragging behind him, and sending shock waves of pain through his body. This was the pain and fear he missed. Though he looked dead, he had never felt more alive.

A/N: Awww, poor Squall. Hehe, dont worry about him, he wont die yet, or maybe at all o.0 This chapter took me far too long to type up, but I enjoyed doing so. The first two paragraphs of the next chapter were take off from the end of here on recommendation of a friend, Steven Kemp, who I'd like to thank for proofreading it. I's also like to recommend Hand of Ice: Pride of rat, which is a dark FF8 fic that I liked. There is a sort of guarantee now, that chapter 4 will be up a week on monday (or on monday 16th, same thing) because I enjoyed doing this one, it helped me get some motivation back. Remember, reviews keep me going!! 


	4. New beginnings?

Squall's eyes flickered open, and he felt a heart-rending pain across his entire body. As the previous night's memories slowly trickled back to him, his vision came into focus, and he looked around. He found himself lying on the ground surrounded by corpses. Monster corpses. There were several T-rexaur, and heaps of things he could not distinguish between due to the condition they were in. This was all caused by him. This massacre, pointless bloodshed. Various body parts were stuck to his clothing. He rose slowly, and saw that he was in the training zone back at Balamb Garden. 'That's right' he thought, 'last night after... after I came back here... I- but this many?' He remembered how outraged he'd been after losing to Seifer, and determined not to sulk with his battered pride; he proceeded to the training area to prove that even in his state, he could still fight. He was covered in various shades of black and red, with dry blood crusted on his clothes and sword.

No one knew where he was, but it would be obvious to Rinoa that he hadn't returned home. So much for her searching for him then. She'd probably just wait until he returned home, and then get angry with him. He glanced around for a clock, and saw one hanging at the entrance. 05:12. There was a good chance that if he snuck back he'd be unnoticed, but there were bigger things on his mind than making up some lame excuse as to why he was late. His mentality and body had taken equally powerful beatings the previous night, and although he was in no fit shape to travel, he was in perfect condition last night and that had been brilliant, hadn't it? His mind made up, he retrieved Griever from the belly of a nearby T-rexaur, and, after washing the blood off his hands and face in the stream nearby, headed back to his room, making plans as he went along.

After days of driving in the stolen Garden car (was it really stolen? He was the commander after all…), Squall finally stopped and looked at the small village before him. He was clueless as to where he was, which meant that it would take longer for anyone to find him. He doubted they were looking though. Squall's pessimistic mindset and mood shifts were well known to his friends, so he they wouldn't worry too much about him. The small community of the village troubled him slightly. He would not be accepted by them straight away, if ever, though he only planned to stay long enough to train himself until there was nothing he could gain by fighting in the deep forests surrounding the village. He vowed to keep training and fighting whatever came his way till the day he could beat Seifer, and prove to himself, most importantly, that he was still the legendary _warrior_ that he once was.

_Is that the only reason I've done this? But surely, if Seifer can almost kill me without exerting himself, then I _need _to do this. Not just for me, but also for those I must protect. Countless hundreds were slaughtered by the Sorceress and her "good knight" because we were unable to stop them._

Squall knew, of course, that this burden should not be his alone; his friends were friends for good reasons. He could count on them, but he was the Commander of Balamb Garden, and if he could not protect the world from Seifer, who could? _He_ needed to be stronger than any obstacle they could face, or there would be no Garden to go back to.

Squall got out of the car and walked up to the inn. He could feel the eyes of all of the villagers fixed upon him, the stranger in these foreign lands. It was a surprise that there was an inn at all; visitors would find little for them here. Upon closer inspection, he noted that it was more of a "family tavern" than the hotel style places he was used to staying in. There was a log fire burning in the centre of what was probably once a lounge area, resplendent with old wooden furniture. The walls had vague designs carved into them, which had faded with time, and were sparsely decorated with paintings of the local area. He walked up to the girl sitting behind the bar, who noticed him and looked up.

"Hi. Can I help you?" Although she made her best efforts to hide it, it was clear that she was surprised, or amused, to see someone not from her own village.

"Have you got any rooms available?"

"Sure thing. How long would you like to stay for?"

"I-" That was a good question. He didn't know how long he wanted to stay. He would know when he was ready to leave, but he wasn't sure how he would explain his situation her.

"I can just start a tab for you if you want." She said, sensing his hesitation.

"Yes, thank you."

She fumbled behind the bar to find a key. "Up the stairs, second on the right. Don't worry about asking me if there's anything I can help with."

"I won't, thanks." Squall started to walk up the stairs. It was clear to him that she was inexperienced with people staying here. She had failed to ask him if he was alone, or ask for a deposit for the room. That could _mean_ anything, she may have trusted him or just forgotten, but it was unimportant, so he shoved it to the back of his mind.

At the top of the stairs, he walked into the second room on the left, _there are no rooms on the right,_ and, placing his bag on the floor, lay down on the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable compared to what Squall had become accustomed to the past few days, so it was not long before he drifted away into sleep. He vowed again to train for the next day to test is strength, and then finally, with all the recent fatigue on his body, his still-aching wounds, and the trials that lay before him, he slept. He slept and for a brief but glorious moment, there was nothing in the world that could trouble him.

* * *

Authors note: Wow, it feels nice to actually get this chapter done. Not much happens, I know, and I'm sorry for that. Next time, I'll add in some of what Rinoa and maybe others at the Garden are doing about Squall's disappearance, if anything. Due to the fact that I haven't kept any update schedules ever, I will not promise a time for submission, merely that the next chapter will definitely be longer. A chapter of at least 2000 words, because I really want to get this story further. Now, thankyou for reading pokes reader and if I may point your attention to the reviews button pokes reader again if you push it and write something, you get a cookie if I ever meet you in real life. Another thing before I go, all go read General Wyvern's stories, they're worthy of praise, and I'm the only reviewer, so I feel like helping her :3 See y'all next time. 


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